Too late to save him
by PBrules
Summary: Imagine Michael discovering that Linc is not as innocent as he'd thought. Despite being locked up for a crime he didn't do, it turns out there are plenty of others which he got away with.


"Why d'you wanna see Burrows so bad anyway?" Sucre asked.

"Because he's my brother."

"Oh." He said ominously turning away.

Michael remained staring through the fence at Linc for a few moments lost in his thoughts and then hurried after his cellmate.

"So why'd they call him Linc the Sinc?"

Sucre didn't meet his eyes. "I don't know Fish. There's a lotta crazy stories kicking about in here maybe not all of thems true."

They walked back to their cell together silently as Michael considered this. As the bars closed on them Michael turned to Sucre.

"Just tell me what you've heard."

Sucre shifted uncomfortably from Michael's relentless gaze and sighed.

"It was before I got here, so I don't really know how it happened." He paused for a second before admitting: "I can find you someone tomorrow who does though."

Michael looked at him intently for a couple more seconds before nodding and settled down on his bed as they were stuck inside until chapel time later that evening.

As Sucre scrawled a note to Maricruz on the bunk above him Michael became lost in his thoughts and absentmindedly traced the tattoo among his forearm. As chapel time approached Michael grew increasingly restless. He was a patient man but it had been nearly two months since he'd spoke to his brother face-to-face.

"Michael!" As he turned and saw his little brother for the first time Linc's jaw dropped. He'd known Michael was being sentenced, he hadn't known he would end up in Fox River.

"Wha..." He had a hundred, thousand questions and didn't know where to begin.

"I'm getting you out of here." Michael's words were barely above a whisper.

He shook his head in disbelief, tears prickling in bleary eyes.

"It's impossible. God Michael – All I wanted was for you to be there for LJ when I'm gone and now..." He choked slightly on the words.

"It's not impossible." Michaels eyes shined brightly. "Not if you designed the place it isn't. You're getting out of here. You need to get ready- get clean, keep your head down. We're gonna do it Linc."

The guards hurried them back to their cells after that, putting a stop to their frantic conversation and leaving so much unsaid.

In his cell Linc craddled his head in his hands. What did Michael think he was playing at? He wasn't stupid but how could he possibly think he could pull this off? Had the whole bank robbery been part of his plans? He hit out in exasperation at the wall of his cell, furious that Michael was in here and worst of all that it was part of some misjudged attempt at playing the hero.

Linc rubbed the track marks in his arms. "Get clean." Michael had told him. Trust his brother to only need to glance at him to see he was using again. Surely it wasn't surprising that he wanted to escape from where he was and what he was facing? Particularly when drugs were far more available in here than on the streets? But his brother wanted to shake all that up and drag him out of himself and back to life. The only thing Michael hadn't realised was that it was already too late. Linc was already dead inside.

***

Michael didn't sleep much his first night inside. Perhaps it wouldn't be such an ordeal for the average person but for him it would take time to adjust to the constant chatter and flickers of light coming from the COs on their rounds which continued long after the sounds of cellmates chatting, rowing and grunting had gradually dissolved into snores.

Michael had never been able to bear to lie in bed when he couldn't sleep. Instead he spent a long time sat on the floor with his back against the bed staring at the blank wall in front of him, memorising the structures and patterns in the brickwork. Immersing himself in his LLI like this was a little dangerous considering that he spent most of his life trying to control it but it was also a comfort to him.

Over the next few days there would be so much stimuli to absorb, whereas the bricks were so elegant in their simplicity -each one at a distance appearing the same but on closer inspection unique. He could engage with the bricks and it made him feel in control to learn the patterns of indentations in the mortar, the different shades of paint from uneven brushstrokes. He knew the sense of calm he was gradually building was unsustainable but he craved it for the moment.

As soon as they went out the cell for breakfast the sights, sounds, smells sheer mass of people and emotions assaulted his senses. Last night he had been so focused on seeing Linc he had blocked everything out but today he was facing it all.

The greasy smell of fried breakfasts took away Michael's appetite in the hall so he used his time to glance unobtrusively around. There was such a mixture of men in here, many separated into gangs and cliques. He was sat on a table next to Sucre with some Hispanics and a few white guys but he could see their table was an exception -most were segregated out along racial lines.

There were some men in here which he could sense immediately should never have been locked away- at least not in a prison anyway. One man on their table who was in his mid twenties with sandy coloured hair and a lazy crooked grin didn't look too bad although he had some sort of facial deformity. However when he spoke his words were slow, slurred and he didn't seem able to make eye contact. He saw other similar cases of men who were in the wrong place, guys on drugs and old defeated men all scattered amongst younger, tougher, sharper men.

Interrupting his reverie Sucre nudged him and nodded towards the old man sat next to the guy with sandy hair.

"That's him Fish- he can tell you why they call your brother that."

Michael took a final glance round the room wondering how prison had changed the men in front of him, hardened and broke their spirits, considering if he too would change. He looked at Sucre briefly, decisively.

"It's ok, I won't be needing to speak to him anymore."

Sucre raised his eyebrows slightly but let the subject drop. They left the hall and Michael noticed that the inmates are looking at him and muttering to one another.

Sucre picked up on it as well.

"Nothing personal Fish, not much goes on in here so new inmates always get talked about."

"Yeah."

Michael replied simply although he noticed that the other new inmates weren't inspiring as much interest.

As they walked back to their cell Michael noticed a guy called Ed that he'd known years ago. Linc had hung around with him back in the day although Ed had always been in and out of gaol the last five or six years. That whole group of mates had always been into trouble with drugs and at least a couple of them had died young from overdoses or gangfights. Michael nodded at Ed, despite his plans to keep his head down it was a shock to see someone he knew and instinctive to greet him.

Ed didn't respond to Michael at all however and just stared coldly back at him. Michael continued walking past him, slightly confused but put it down to the fact that everyone was so different inside.

Over the next week Michael gradually began to put his plans in place, getting pugnac for his fake diabetes so as to get access to the medical wing and putting things in motion to set up their opportunity for PI. He saw Linc a couple more times through the fence whilst out in the yard and as far as he could tell he was sticking to his end of the bargain and coming off the drugs.

Things were pretty much on track therefore until Michael's first visiting hour. Veronica had came to see him and he'd just sat down and began to talk to her when he noticed what was going on at the next table. Ed was sat with a blond girl and the two of them kept looking over at him.

Michael was distracted and lost the train of thought from what he'd been saying to Vee. The blond girl glared in his direction and then whispered furiously to Ed. Michael strained to listen into their conversation and just made out Ed muttering:

"I'm the one whose in here. Don't make this harder for me."

Michael couldn't decipher her response but whatever it was made Ed abruptly move his chair back from her and snarl at her.

"Just do me a favour and go home Carly!"

The girl jumped up.

"Fucking coward if he could see you now."

She turned towards Michael.

"Fucking evil piece of work..."

The COs approached her but she was too quick for them and spat at Michael before they pulled her away.

Michael sat stunned, a trail of her flem running down his face. Vee looked at him as agog as he was.

"I don't know her. I mean I've seen her around- but I've never even spoke to her..." He told Vee.

Ed stood up and looked briefly at Michael before slipping away.

Michael made a hasty apology to Vee and jogged after him to catch him up.

"Ed, Ed, wait up."

Ed didn't slow his pace but Michael pursued him relentlessly.

"Ed- what was that about – who was she?"

Eventually Ed stopped and turned to face him.

"You really don't know? All this time I thought you were one callous bastard trying to just talk to me like nothing had happened but you really had no idea?"

His eyes bore into Michael's searching his face.

"Ritchie Anderson?"

Michael was still just as confused.

"He died right? A few years back in a gang fight?"

"Yeah in a gang fight where your brother killed him."

The words left his mouth bitterly before he could hold them in. He regretted his outburst immediately, falling over himself to undo what he'd said.

"Look Mike. I don't want any trouble. As far as I'm concerned I've got no beef with you ... or Linc... it was years ago. Let Ritchie rest peacefully and all that. I'm sorry about my sister going mad. Carly...well she and Ritchie had a thing going on back in the day y'know. I think seeing you just brought it all up."

He slapped Michael on the shoulder awkwardly before hastily sliping away leaving him shellshocked.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Michael. He was still reeling when he went back to his cell.

He walked in and stood ready for the count in silence without greeting Sucre who looked at him in concern.

"Are you OK Fish?" He asked tentatively.

Michael just looked at him blankly.

"Did something happen to you?"

"Who would dare touch me when 'The Sink' and Abbruzzi have my back?" Michael replied bitterly and then went quiet again refusing to respond to Sucre with anything but a monosyllabic answer. Eventually Sucre gave up and tried to sleep. When morning came Sucre was relieved to get out of the cell.

In the breakfast queue Michael made a beeline for Ed.

"Ed, I need to speak to you ..." Michael started but Ed tried to dart away again.

Michael caught him and slammed him back against the wall and hissed at him

"You're so full of crap."

Ed struggled, panicking- he'd never been a scrapper and Michael was quite a bit bigger than him.

"Oi cons! Take a step back." The CO barked out

Michael released Ed.

They waited next to each other in the line in an awkward silence for a couple minutes. Ed could swear he could almost feel the glare Michael was giving the back of his head. Eventually he sighed and said quietly.

"Look it wasn't just Linc, OK, there were gangs of them fighting. If it makes you feel any better I don't think he necessarily meant for Ritchie to die."

Michael gave him a sharp glance.

"Changing your story now? Are you even sure Linc did it?"

"I was there. Ritchie was on the ground and there were a few of them-including Linc- kicking him in the head."

"You're lying." Cold, blue eyes focused on Ed.

" Ritchie was my best mate..." Ed stammered disjointedly. "Linc left him covered in blood ... I got an ambulance to come but he was already dead... I wouldn't lie about this... Look Michael- I don't want any trouble OK? We don't need to make this into a big deal..."

Michael gave him one last long look before leaving the breakfast queue and going over to the table where the old guy that Sucre had pointed out was sat.

"Can I speak to you- privately in a minute?"

The guy looked him over briefly and nodded. He swallowed his last couple mouthfuls of food before nodding his head in the direction of the cells. Michael followed him back to his cell where the sandy haired man was doodling endless scribbles on scraps of paper.

"Don't mind Rob. He won't take no notice of us." The old guy said.

"I'd rather speak just with you... if that's ok."

The old guy raised his eyebrows.

"Rob – you go chat with Byers and Sneaker-boy over yonder."

Rob looked up with a huge unfocused grin at the old guy.

"C'mon- get out of here Rob."

"I need to go out our cell?"

"For ten minutes. Just go chat to our buddies and then you can come back."

"Kay."

"What's your name Fish?"

"I'm Scofield. Sharing a cell with Sucre over there."

"Yeah I seen that. Well my name's Rubin Carter. Now we've got the pleasantries out the way maybe you can tell me why you wanted to speak to me so bad?"

"I want to know how 'Linc the Sinc' got his nickname."

Rubin looked at Michael critically "Can tell you're pretty new here Scofield. Most times people lose their curiosity pretty quick in a place like this."

"Can you tell me?"

He shrugs. "It ain't no secret. Fight in the kitchens bout a year ago. Some of the guys came at Linc with knives and the like. Not that that worried him he's a pretty handy fellow when it comes to scrapping by all accounts. But anyway he got pushed into one of those little sinks -you know for those on kitchen duty use to wash their hands- and it came loose, so he just ripped it on out of the wall. Used it as a weapon, as a shield -whole deal. Bashed a few heads in that day I tell ya. Course young Rob here's never been the same since and 'The Sink' ended up in the SHU afterwards would have been longer but he was in a state himself..."

"Rob?"

"Hell yeah. Rob was as sharp as any of those snotty nosed punks that come in here back in the day. Used to get about with Smithy and Tyson and be into everything. You seen him now. He's a good kid don't get me wrong but he ain't all there."

"Yeah." Michael fought to keep his emotions hidden and left abruptly only just making it back to his cell own before he brought up the remains of last nights dinner.

That afternoon as Sucre walked over to PI with Michael he knew instinctively that whatever had been bugging him was heading for a climax. He watched uneasily as Michael walked over towards Linc who was already setting up the ladder and getting the paint out.

It didn't take long for the row to start. Sucre didn't here what Linc said quietly to Michael but he was close enough to hear him hiss at him in response: "Yeah? Well guess what that's not going to happen!"

"What are you talking about?" Linc sounded surprised and Sucre was no longer the only one listening in on their conversation. Michael must have became aware of this as he moved away and started working at the other end of the room.

Linc followed him, frowning.

"Huh? Don't walk away from this. If you've gotta problem, tell me." He went right into Michael's personal space and looked at him hard.

"What do you mean it's not happening, Michael?"

"I've come to my senses. I'm not breaking filth like you lot out of here." Michael's voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.

Linc shook him.

"What the fuck is this huh? You can't just call everything off -just like that."

Everyone has stopped what they're doing now.

Michael gave Linc a mighty push to try and move him back from him, but his brother barely shifted his ground.

By this point C-Note and T-Bag have surrounded Michael looking threatening. Everyone else was watching intently.

"It's all over." Michael announces not taking his eyes off Linc.

"You don't make those decisions." Abruzzi said approaching menacingly keeping hold of the hammer in his hand.

Michael laughs mirthlessly. A shove from Linc and he was back against the wall pinned up.

"Tell me." He said through gritted teeth, "What this is about? What's changed."

Abruzzi raised the hammer and Linc instinctively struggled against him, this left the way clear for T-Bag and C-Note to grab hold of Michael.

T-Bag sucked in his tongue loudly. "Dam' But we're going to disallow your duplicity, Pretty." He started to reach inside his PI overalls for the shank which he always kept on his person.

Meanwhile Linc got the hammer off of Abruzzi gripping his wrist but also pleading with him.

"Just let me speak to him..."

At this point C-Note punched Michael in the jaw knocking him back against the ladder, meanwhile Sucre spoke to T-Bag.

"Whoa now you don't need to do this..."

Events got crazily out of hand as C-Note repeatedly beat Michael who ended up on the ground with the heavy ladder falling with a sickening crash on top of him.

"Opps!" T-Bag said. "I don't know how I got so clumsy."

**********************************************************  
In the medical wing. (Approx 10 mins later)

"Just a very mild concussion by the look of things." Sara says as she gently examines his head.

She finishes and removed the gloves.  
"So- do you want to run past me what happened again?" She didn't try to hide the disbelief in her voice.

"I fell off the ladder – I was reaching for the top of the door frame and the floor below the ladder must have been uneven." Michael sounded groggy.

Sara made a note on his file. "Funny how many people have accidents around Abruzzi."

"Sara- Doctor Tancredi," he corrected himself automatically. "Please just let it go."

"This isn't right. I can't keep ignoring things like this. These men are hurting you Michael...Just a second..."

She paused and looked up at the door and then left to speak to a CO who was gesturing for her to speak to him.

Michael lay there awaiting her return. Suddenly he caught a glimpse out of the edge of his peripheral vision and stiffened slightly. His jaw set in a hard line.

"Michael."

"What are you doing here?" he said coldly.

"I kicked up a fuss. They said I could see you for ten minutes..."

"Just ...go away Linc." Michael sounded weary. "I've got nothing left to say to you."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because your not worth saving." Michael said tonelessly but he was breathing rapidly betraying how emotional he felt.

"I don't give a shit about me." Linc said heatedly. "I'm a goner I know that. I always knew this break out was just a pipe dream really. But you're gonna end up getting yourself killed the way you're going, Michael. Guys like Abruzzi, T-Bag, C-note even. You don't fuck about with them. They already cut off your fucking toes- how many signs do you need? What'd the doc say about your head?"

"I'll live."

Lincoln put both his hands around Michaels head forcing him to look at him with a vice like grip.

"Why are you being like this huh?"

Michael sat up, pulling away from his brother.

"Get off." He said and then repeated himself more urgently. "Linc -Get off! I'm gonna be sick again!."

Lincoln let go and Michael sat still for a moment fighting off the nausea. He swallowed some stomach acid back down and closed his eyes.

"When I planned on breaking you out I didn't think you bloody deserved to be here!"

"I didn't kill Steadman Michael..."

"Not him." Michael snarled. "Ritchie Anderson? Rob? What other sordid stories have you got hidden away? Anyone else you've murdered or maimed?" his voice rising with the end of the sentence

"This is fucking Ed that's been stirring shit isn't it?" Linc demanded.

******

At that moment Sara came back in and out her notes in the section at the foot of Michael's bed.

"I've persuaded the CO to give you some extra time. I told him it's good to have someone watch you at the moment, which is true, just don't talk too much and get some rest OK?"

Michael nodded and Sara left again.

"Great, just great."

"Michael. Those things that happened. They weren't supposed to work out like that. I can promise you that I both of those times I was defending myself. It would have been them or me."

"Though Ritchie was on the floor and you were kicking him in the head?" Michael asked scornfully.

Linc went pale. "It wasn't quite like that... What happened with Ritchie was wrong – it wasn't supposed to go down like that. Ritchie set us up – we had a loada coke we were getting rid of and he tried to rip us off. If we hadn't set things straight we would've been shot- simple as that. You didn't mess with those boys. He was never meant to die though, he got beat up, it went too far. I swear to you I didn't mean for it to happen."

"But he did die! You killed him. My God Linc! And Rob"

"Truly, that was self defence. He'd stabbed me and I just whacked out at him. You remember that time you couldn't visit me- when I was sick? Well they threw me in the SHU because of Rob without checking me over. By the time the doc got told I was in there I'd bled pretty bad. They had to take me to the General Hospital. Sort me out."

"You never said about any of this?"

"It wasn't exactly my proudest moment. Look Michael. You're in here. You know that prison's full of scumbags and you have to fight to protect yourself, get a rep as someone they can't push about."

"Well you've certainly got that. Fuck! Linc- how is it your life got this screwed up? That you became so violent. That you started selling drugs? Or even taking them?"

Linc smiled wanly "My whole life's just been a bitch."

"And whose fault is that? You could have stayed at school, stayed out of trouble but you choose not to."

"It's not that simple Michael."

"I've gone through stuff – so much crap -that you could never understand and I managed it."

Linc shook his head sadly. "I know. You had a shit time when you were younger."

"You don't know. I lost Mum, then you went to juvie and I was all alone and went to that place and he... did those things. And then I saw... him kill that man... You've no idea what its like to sit there scared shitless, watching someone be beaten to death all because of you."

"I know, Michael."

"Like fuck do you know!"

"I do know Michael. I saw it." Linc's answer shook Michael.

"You what? You were there that day?"

Linc nodded solemnly. "I let him in. When I got out of juvie the first place I went was to track you down although they'd already told me I couldn't stay where you were. Anyway I found where you were, went there and saw enough to know that guy..." he gulped "was fucked up. So I called Dad."

Michael jolted upright but didn't interrupt -his eyes trained intently on Linc's face his mind working overtime.

Linc continued "When he came I squeezed through the back window and opened the door."

"You saw it all?" Michael whispered.

Linc nodded wordlessly.

"I was on the steps- scared to come into the cellar properly. But I could saw... what happened. I...ran off when it was over. I wanted to stay with you but I thought they'd think..."

"What I don't understand is how you called Dad? We hadn't seem him for what ten years and all of a sudden you're on the phone to him?"

Linc went silent.

"You'd seen him before that." Michael stated slowly. "Why hadn't you told me?"

"He came to visit me in juvie a couple times." Linc admitted. "Gave me his number and said I could call him but I never did. I was angry. I never planned to call him. I'd taken me getting locked up before he offered to help?!"

"Why did he contact you and not me?"

Linc averted his eyes. "He told me a lotta stuff Michael – I don't know how much of it I should tell you."

"Why did he contact you and not me?"

Linc averted his eyes. "He told me a lotta stuff Michael – I don't know how much of it I should tell you."

.....

"Looks like all the laundry is being washed today." He replied coldly.

Linc felt uncomfortable but forced himself to plough on. Now that he'd started he couldn't really leave this where it was.

"I don't know how much you remember about when we were little, about Dad leaving?"

"I remember them arguing. Dad chucking stuff about, then storming off."

"Before that. Do you remember when Mom got her job?"

Michael nodded.

"Dad didn't like it. He wanted her to stay home and look after us."

"Do you remember her boss? He took us all out one time – bought us milkshakes?"

Michael racked his brains and shook his head.

"You would have only been about three no maybe four years old. He took us to a café a couple blocks away and got him and Mom coffee and us milkshakes. Dad went ballistic afterwards – we were supposed to be in bed but I heard it all."

Michael screwed his face up in concentration.

"What café was it?"

"Huh? It was the one opposite the bus shelter a couple doors down from the old library building. We must've walked past it a lot."

"I think I remember now. Mom's boss – was he tall with dark hair and a beard?"

"Yeah, pretty tall and lanky, I think."

"With a Massachusetts accent?"

Linc shrugged. "I dunno."

He wasn't surprised that Michael's phenomenal memory meant that when he focused he could remember more than him, despite being so young at the time.

"A swanky red car?"

Linc laughed. "Yeah a brand new Honda- he gave us a lift in it."

"I remember him shaking my hand." Michael said quietly. "You and Mom had gone off someplace, so it was just us two and he talked to me. He asked me how old I was and if I liked school and stuff."

Linc looked at him sadly.

"You get it?"

Michael sighed.

There are sounds of movements outside the door.

"Dad still loved you Mikey. He did. It was just... difficult obviously. He did his best for as long as he could." Linc whispered rapidly.

"Before he got tired of pretending and washed his hands of me." Michael replied bitterly before taking a deep breath and sticking his fingers down his throat making himself gag and then vomit onto the floor.

"Ugh - What are you doing?" Linc edged away from him in disgust.

"I don't want to go back to the wing." Michael mumbled indistinctly. "Need to stay away from Ab..." He suddenly heaved again- having started vomiting he found he couldn't stop.

At that moment Sara came back in.

"Scofield?" She approached him rapidly looking concerned and glanced towards Linc.

"He just started being sick again all of a sudden." Linc said matter of factly.

Michael heaved again bringing up bile.

"Ok Burrows you'd better get back to your cell." She nodded at the CO. "I'll keep an eye on Scofield from here."

She handed him a cardboard vomit tray and some tissues to wipe his face. He'd more or less stopped heaving now and just gulped sporadically.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ugh." Michael smiled weakly. "I can see two of you."

"When did this come on?"

"It's been coming and going. I feel a bit dizzy as well." He admitted.

"I'm not surprised." She said taking his wrist and checked his pulse before shining a light in his eyes.

"Well you'll be staying on the medical wing for a couple days so we can watch over you. That was a nasty blow to the head whatever caused it, so just try and rest. I'll get someone to check on you again in a minute and if you're still nauseous we can give you something to help with that."

She was about to turn away when Michael caught her wrist gently. She jumped slightly, her wrist tingling from his unexpected touch.

"Thanks Doc." He said softly.

She smiled back at him before turning away, although she was troubled by him. Looking back at those brilliant blue eyes she could see they glistened with pain or emotion and no wonder. He was obviously in trouble and he wouldn't survive his time inside at the rate he was going. She sighed as she went into the the examination room opposite. Just how wrong was it that she still found him incredibly attractive despite just watching him chuck his guts up? She shook her head slightly in shock at her own thoughts and tried to focus on her next patient. She needed to put all thoughts of Michael Scofield aside.

***************************************************************

Back in his cell. Linc lay down on his bed. He felt utterly drained from the emotional havoc of the day. He couldn't believe that only this morning he had gone off to PI full of energy and enthusiasm about his brothers plans and now they were all over.

He hadn't been lying when he had told Michael that he hadn't really expected the break out to succeed. The truth was he hadn't dared to allow himself to believe any of it. But this didn't stop the grief now he knew his last hope was gone.

All he can do is hope against hope that Michael will change his mind but he knows its wishful thinking. For the first time Linc considered whether he would actually be better off getting strapped into the electric chair. You had to have a pretty worthless life if your own brother, who knows you better than anyone, wants you dead.

But then he reminds himself that LJ has recently started opening up to him. He does have reason a reason to live. A fucking huge one. At the point that his end is so close he is desperate to have another chance to rebuild his relationship with his son.

He knows too that Michael doesn't really want him to die but that his dark past has stolen any moral high ground in freeing him. He doesn't know whether he feels fury with Michael for turning his back on him or a sense of dread at the very real danger that his brother would now find himself in. It's all such a fucking mess.

A hot tear ran down his cheek and he brushed it away angrily.

He didn't deserve to die. He didn't.  
***************************************************************

2 days later

Michael lay motionless on the bed in the medical ward. He knew that at sometime in the next hour he would be escorted back to General Population, Sara had been keen to keep him in the ward for as long as possible but even she couldn't drag it out any longer.

Although he was completely still with his eyes closed his mind was racing. He'd always suspected it had been his father, no scrap that, the man he had thought of as his father who had rescued him that day. He hadn't known for sure because he had been so young when his father had left that he couldn't remember his face clearly. Then after everything that had happened he'd wondered if his memories of that night were real, there were after all things that had happened to him which he had blocked out completely, so who was to say his mind wouldn't make things up altogether? He couldn't believe Linc had been there and all these years they had never talked about it. Admittedly he had always refused to discuss anything to do with his abuse- until eventually his anger had made his throw it in his brother's face.

A deep dead weight inside him dragged him down whenever he thought of Linc . He'd be getting his date through for the execution any day now. Could he really stand by and let this happen?

After the ladder had struck him and he had been out cold for a few seconds the first sight he'd seen on coming round had been his brother anxiously holding him by the shoulders. He sighed and shifted his position slightly on the bed. If only there was some way out of this agony but there was none that he could see. He could free his brother, God knows he wanted to and part of him would die if he stood by and let him be killed. But if he still freed him now, knowing what he now knew the person he had always been would be shattered. He would have lost himself and all pretence at doing right. As a child he had vowed to make the world better, to give out the polar opposite of the suffering and evil he had endured. Could he really abandon his conscience now?

"Scofield – You're up!!" The CO hollared from the doorway. Slowly Michael sat up and shuffled to his feet. Time to go back to Gen Pop, PI and all the men his decision would impact upon.

..............................................................................................................

Back in his cell, Michael hesitated just inside the bars. Sucre hadn't ranked highly in his worries about returning to Gen Pop but all of a sudden this seemed short sighted. He was sat on his bunk glaring down at Michael with his arms folded. Bristling with pent up anger.

Michael swallowed uncomfortably aware of all the risks Sucre had taken and was still part of if the COs took it into their heads to search their cell.

"I'm sorry." He said simply and genuinely. "It was a bad plan Fernando. But I'm going to make this right with you. I don't intend on staying here long term and I will get you out one way or another. I'll do everything I can for you, I promise."

Sucre snorted slightly, breathing heavily but eventually said.

"It's not me you need to worry about Papi. Abruzzi, T-Bag, C-Note, they're all gonna come after you if you end this."

"I know."

"You're gonna have to get Abruzzi on side. Give him Fibonnaci -its the only card you hold."

"I can't." Michael replied simply.

"I don't see what other choice you have Papi."

"I'd like to think I wouldn't even if I could but the truth is I can't." Michael smiled humourlessly. "I have no idea where Fibonnacci is."

"But the photo...?"

"...was taken nearly ten months ago. I knew they would try and coerce the information out of me. I wasn't sure that I would be able to keep quiet so I arranged for him to be moved."

Sucre stared at him incredulously.

"I tipped the police off that I was on his track. Pretended to be a reporter. He won't be in the same place now. "

"But you had a guy watching his movements?" Sucre said weakly.

Michael just looked at him.

"Well you're screwed then." Sucre said bleakly. "We got PI tomorrow morning and you're gonna get taken apart."

Neither Michael or Sucre slept well that night. It seemed to Michael that he hadn't slept properly since he'd been in Fox River. He felt shattered to his core and didn't know how much longer he could function without rest.

At about half past four Sucre broke the silence. He knew Michael wasn't asleep because there was no sounds of his usual faint rhythmic breathing.

"Maybe you can get off PI duty. Say you did and then stuck close to the COs in the yard... there's a chance you could avoid Abruzzi and the others."

Michael's immediate murmured response confirmed Sucre's guess that he was awake.

"I considered that. Sara offered to have me signed me off PI." He sighed. "I still don't know what I'm going to do but I can't do that."

Sucre sat up. "Why not? You should have jumped at the chance the Doc offered."

Michael swung himself down from his bunk and perched on the end of Sucre's bed to continue their conversation face to face.

"That hole is the only way out of here. One way or another I'm not staying here for the duration. I get off PI and that's it, there's no way back from that."

"So you're going to have to just go with the original plan then? You'll have to."

"I can't." Michael says honestly. "Linc's not who I thought he was. I can't bring myself to free him."

"What option have you got though? Are you going to do stand by and watch your brother die?"

"Yes." Michael said bleakly. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"That's tough man. I couldn't do it."

Sucre sank back on his bunk, Michael remained sat on the end staring into space.

...3 hours later...

At breakfast Michael was aware of the eyes trained upon him as he struggled to force his food down. Sucre had also noticed.

"I hope you have a plan Papi. They are gonna hurt you, real bad."

"I know what I have to do."

They walked into the PI area together. Sucre's heart was beating so hard he thought he might explode from the tension. His cellmate, by contrast, seemed cool and calm.

"Pretty."T-Bag took a step towards him but Abruzzi held up his hand and looked at Michael questioningly.

Michael shrugged."Everything's back on."

C-Note laughs disbelievingly.

"Right." Abruzzi says decisively. "You and me are going to have a little conversation, the rest of you... get on with it."

Linc watched as Michael went and spoke quietly with Abruzzi. Their discussion was held in tones too low for him to hear what they were saying but they were obviously arguing. Abruzzi even grabbed Michael and drew him close at one point, whispering something menacingly in his ear. Michael gave a small shrug and muttered something back. Whatever his reply had been made Abruzzi snort and nod his head towards the tools although he still watched him suspiciously. Michael walked over picked up a hammer and began to work next to Linc.

Eventually Michael acknowledged Linc's stare.

"What? I calmed down. We're going ahead as planned." He said quietly.

"Don't patronise me. Do you think I'm that fucking stupid?" Lincoln whispered back furiously.

Abruzzi came towards them so they both stopped talking and concentrated on the digging.

...The next day...  
The news that a date has been set for Linc's execution has spread around A Wing. He has a fortnight to go...

Linc approached his brother during PI.

"Michael. A dates been set." His voice was full of anguish and dread.

"Yeah." Michael struggled to harden himself against what he knew was coming.

"Michael. You can't let this happen. LJ came and visited me today. He needs me. Don't do this. Please."

"Stop it." He replied through gritted teeth and makes a movement to walk away. But Linc restrained him, pushing him back.

"Please. Michael. They're gonna kill me. Do you get that? They're gonna strap me in that chair and watch me die. " Linc sounded desperate.

Michael tries to shrug Linc away but he was too stong and he pulled him forcefully back towards him before pinning him against the wall. He drew his clenched fist back.

Michael watched without any fear. He felt utterly weary, beyond any emotion.

He sighed quietly. "What you think this is going to convince me?" He sounded detached.

Linc struck out in pure frustration but hit the concrete wall to the side of Michaels head, bruising and cutting his knuckles. He took a couple steps back and cradled his head in his hands despairingly.

Michael, who had remained stock still without flinching, shook his head slightly as he passed his brother.

...The next day...

Linc and Michael are painting a wall outside, away from the others. Although the priority is still digging they have to keep up the pretence that they are fulfilling the job they're on. They hadn't spoke to eachother since the incident the day before and the atmosphere between them is tense. Michael has been trying to sum up the courage to speak for some time.

Eventually after they'd been working for nearly an hour he finally broke the silence in a low voice.

"I don't want you to think I don't care."

Linc looks up startled, but doesn't reply so Michael continues.

"When I was a little kid I used to worship the ground you walked on. My big brother. As far as I was concerned no one could be smarter, stronger or braver."

Michael toyed with his paintbrush and gave a sidelong glance to his brother.

"Then I grew up a bit and I realised that you weren't perfect, and you kept getting into trouble with drugs, fucking up. But I never for one moment believed that was the real you. I always thought it was a momentary blimp and you would be back to being my amazing big brother who was always there for me. All this last year through all my plans I had that belief to inspire me. I knew you weren't perfect but as far as I was concerned it was still clear cut, you were in the right, and being here on death row was utterly wrong. That was the fire that inspired me to risk everything to set things straight."

He paused for a moment and gave a small twisted grin.

"Then I got in here and found out how naïve I had been. Your crimes were a hell of a stretch from dealing a bit of pot. And the more I heard the more murky it all became and I couldn't trust my own judgement anymore. I don't want to believe you'd injure or kill more people if you were freed but I'm not sure, I don't even know you anymore, I obviously never really did."

Michael paused again seeing the stricken look on Linc's face.

"I don't think I'm explaining this very well. I'm not setting out to criticise you -I just wanted to tell you why what you've done changes everything. You'll never be the person I thought you were all these years. It was always an unrealistic, idealistic notion I held of you."

"Huh." Linc slapped paint on the wall.

Linc tried to shrug it all away but inside he was distraught. Was it too much for him to have lived up to Michael's dreams? He hadn't wanted him to get rich, get a high flying job, given him all the things he'd not had throughout his childhood. His expectations hadn't been greedy. He'd just wanted his brother to be there for him. Instead he'd always been off getting high, fighting, stealing, dealing, throwing his life away.

What a fucking waste.

After a couple minutes of ineffective painting he turned back to his brother.

"D'you remember that time I got busted for those stolen stereos?"

Michael nodded. "And when the cops looked a bit closer they realised the battery compartments were full of coke."

"And you refused to have anything to do with me for over a month?"

"Yeah." Michael said quietly. "You'd been doing so well, going to NA, got yourself a job, you'd just became a Dad and then you'd blown everything."

"I was going out of my mind that you wouldn't write, visit or call me. At the time Vee asked me what did I expect when the only consistency I'd ever shown you was ending up in court every couple of months without fail."

Michael gave a small smile. "She had a point."

"You know if I had my life over, I would do so much differently." Linc meditatively.

"I don't know why I made the choices I did. I guess at the time I just could never see another way.

Linc clasped his brother to him for about a minute Michael let him hug him. Then he pulled away.

"You know I'm still not breaking you out."

"I know." Linc looked up with dull eyes and shrugged in a resigned manner which cut into Michael. "There's too much that has happened, too much I'm responsible for. I get it."

Michael knew he ought to feel better now that Linc had accepted his fate but he didn't. In fact the reverse was true. The fact that Linc had resigned himself to what was coming hurt Michael unbearably. His tenuous grip on his emotions was pushed even further by a joint visit from LJ and Vee.

They had barely been sat around the table for more than a couple minutes, sombrely asking how each other was coping, when any pretence at dignity went out the window for LJ. He began to cry, not little snivels, but great, painful, gulping sobs that drew attention from the other visitors.

"I can't take it, Uncle Mike." He'd finally uttered.

"I love him so much and he's gonna be gone forever." His face had screwed up and the tears had restarted.

Vee had not been much better. At first she'd tried to comfort LJ but she'd been brushing away her own tears at the same time.

Michael had watched them. Dry-eyed but distraught.

...

He was escorted back to his cell after the visit.

"Papi."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's just... You've only got two weeks now that's all. I don't think you've thought this through. You gotta get your head together Papi."

"I SAID I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" Michael snarled ferociously.

Sucre throws himself on his bed.

"This is my life we're talking about too, ok?" He replied heatedly.

Michael slid to the floor, his elbows on top of his knees and his head buried in his forearms. He was still in this position when Bellick came round.

"Jab time Scofield."

M blinked, disorientated. But he rose to his feet and followed him along the corridor.

***

"So Scofield not long to go now huh, these two weeks will sure fly past." Bellick said sneeringly trying to get a rise out of Michael as they walked down the corridor.

Michael did his best to ignore him.

"You know, I heard they all squeal when it happens? Big, macho guys like your brother they're all the same when it comes to it in the big, bad chair."

Michael clenched his fists, shooting him a look of pure disgust. He was itching to wipe the smirk off Bellick's face but knew it would only be rising to his bait.

"Course you know they gotta wear diapers as well right? Cos you know what happens when they flip the switch, that's if while he's waiting he hasn't already ..."

"Ah Scofield..." Sara opened the door interrupting Bellick. She noticed that Michael looked stressed and tense as he darted past her into the examination room. Sara paused briefly waiting for Bellick to give them some privacy.

"Thanks- I'll take it from here." She said pointedly.

Bellick closed the door after himself.

She turned to Michael looking serious, her hazel eyes full of compassion.

"I heard about your brother getting the date through. I'm sorry."

Michael's jaw was tight with suppressed emotion. He didn't reply but walked to the end of the room and gripped the window sill to steady himself.

"I know this must be hard... impossible for you to cope with. I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you need to talk. And I'll also do all I can to rearrange your brother's medical so it'll coincide with your jab- see if I can't get you both a little extra time together."

Michael turned sharply.

"What Linc's appointment to see if he is fit enough to be killed?"

"I know it seems ridiculous..."

"This is all ridiculous!" Michael burst out aggressively. "What are you doing here? Really? Well? How can you be part of a system which you know is wrong? When you disagree with what they're doing?"

Sara took a step back affronted. She was about to spit back a barbed retort until she realised that Michael was on the verge of tears.

She relented and drew closer. "Hey." She took his hand and stroked it softly. "You know I think this is wrong. The death penalty is nothing more than legally sanctioned murder as far as I'm concerned. I gave all those papers to my father, I made him read them. I hate what's happening but I can do no more."

Michael made a heroic effort to pull himself together.

"Sorry." He mumbled, brushing his other hand across his face. "I don't mean to take it out on you. You're the only decent, honest person in here and I know it's not your fault. I'm just so angry with myself, this is tearing me apart."

Sara frowned and squeezed his wrist slightly.

"Hey, you can't blame yourself, you've done everything you could. I know this is a horrendous position for you to be in- being so close to your brother in the end. Having to go through it with him. "

He looked up directly at her, his startling blue eyes making her catch her breath.

"How do you cope with your job, with all this? Not changing things? Letting them take their course? Watching people suffer and not doing anything to stop it?"

He looked so lost and helpless that Sara didn't take offence although his words were hurtful. She hesitated before answering seriously.

"I take comfort from knowing that sometimes I do make a difference, even if I can't win every battle. There isn't always an easy solution but you can only work with the opportunities you are given. At the end of the day I know that I have done my best. I can sleep soundly with a clear conscience. Then the next day I just come in and try over." She ended sadly.

Michael stared at her transfixed.

She was so good, so pure. The only thing which was real and true in the whole of Fox River. The only person who Michael had ever known who gave so much of herself for so little.

Somehow she was able to work in the chaotic, depressing purgatory of the prison without letting it affect her. She remained miraculously untainted by all the filth and grime which she encountered.

He glanced down at her hand which was still on his arm, then looked up into her deep hazel eyes. They stared at each other for a moment as he took in her pale, creamy skin and bracken red hair. Inadvertently she moistened her lips slightly and before Michael realised what he was doing he had kissed her, almost hypnotised by her beauty. Instinctively, at first, she kissed him back before recollecting herself and pulling back.

"Um, arm." Flustered she grabbed the syringe and hastily jabbed him clumsily with it.

"Sara... I uh... I'm sorry. I..."

But she was already at the door and had flung it open.

"All done in here." She stood in the doorway watching somewhat shakily as he reluctantly left.

**********************************************************

Michael was oblivious to Bellick's taunts as he led him back to his cell. In his mind he kept replaying the kiss, knowing it was madness. Before coming to Fox River he had planned to manipulate the prison doctor as far as it helped the escape. But this was rapidly becoming something else...something he hadn't planned and couldn't control.

Sara would have lost her job if anyone had walked in upon them when they were kissing and she didn't deserve that. But it didn't stop him reliving each second, the smell of her perfume, the taste of her lips upon his...

**********************************************************

Sucre looked up as Bellick shoved Michael into the cell.

He noticed his cellie looked calmer than before. Perhaps he would be more receptive to talking things through. Sucre was determined to get everything out in the open. He was certain from what he knew of Michael that he wouldn't be able to abandon his brother. As far as he was concerned the sooner his cellmate faced up to the truth of this the better.


End file.
